


Darling

by MelanieCruz



Category: Nathan Sykes - Fandom, TWFanmily, The Wanted (Band)
Genre: Gen, Nathan Sykes - Freeform, The Wanted - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 21:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelanieCruz/pseuds/MelanieCruz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lolita Angel is a normal girl going to school and living in Brooklyn.She does normal things like study, eat more than she should and regret it later, she's stubborn as hell and needs more bandage than an average person. The only thing that separates her from the thousands living in the city is a family tragedy that has defined her in the most unfortunate way. But that’s just a side note really. The day she was randomly offered a job offer by the most handsome bachelor in New York City was the day her life was changed forever. That day when she made decisions beyond her maturity and defied him, in a way no one else had before, catching his thrilling attention. From talking to herself in her head, to saying the wrong things out loud she’s quite something and everyone sees it.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Based on a true story

 

Maybe this was irrelevant. Maybe he will mistake me as a desperate child who would do anything for the smallest sign of affection. But I do not think that matters the slightest in this situation. As his hands travel down my defenceless body the muscles inside me, the deepest, darkest part ever to exist clench in the most delicious way. “You smell so good,” he whispers and closes his eyes, a look of mysterious satisfaction on his face. A feeling who was happily mirrored by my hitching breath and flushed face. He reaches up and tugs the covers off the bed, then pushes me gently so I fall on to the mattress. Oh my. I gasp slightly when his nose runs up my inner thigh, hot puffs of air fanning over me, there. He takes my breath away. How can I possibly keep still? My feet stiffen and my mouth slowly forms a ´o´. This is so intense I can‘t... 

„Darling we need to work on keeping you still“ His growl is so deep.

A sudden alarm goes off deep in my head, keeping me on my toes. I push myself upon my elbows, my blue eyes meeting with something so beautifully demon-like but can only be described as an angel. His eyes are yellow. Yellow. But not in an alien way, more like flooding gold, darkening with every moment his head is hungrily placed between my legs.

His sardonic smile unease’s me, giving me the chance to count his abnormally sharp teeth before I lose sight of him, waves of pure pleasure riding through me once again.

 

„Miss Angel“?

My chin loses its balance in my palm and smacks loudly against the wooden table, followed by numerous of laughter’s filling the classroom before Miss Somerset shuts them down with her authoritative gaze. I swear I can feel my teeth bulge out of my mouth in a very painful way. The whole class is looking directly at me. Great.

„Ow“ I mumble and rub the sore spot, avoiding to reunite the awkward eye contact with them. I can only imagine how red my face must be. I try to look like I don’t care they have all caught me day dreaming in middle of the class but the girls behind me frankly don’t help, as their muffled cries of amusement can be heard from the teacher’s desk.

“Can you explain to me why you were sleeping few seconds ago Miss Angel”? Mrs Somerset resumes her distant, polite, uptight persona, her mask back up and on show.

“Umm” I mumble nervously, switching my gaze from certain items in the room trying to delay my answer for as long as possible. From the edge of my vision I can see Shellie Callahan smirk devilishly, both of us knowing where my ass would be if I couldn’t come up with a valid excuse. I really don’t feel like going to the headmaster. Not today.

“I studied this last night, I was just resting my eyes for a bit” I quietly lie. If she wouldn’t have been anything else but a true sadist I might have felt a little guilty lying to her. 

Her mouth sets into a grim line and leans down in front of me. She gazes down, wide unreadable eyes burning into mine. I swallow.

“Well if you didn’t think you had the obligation to pay attention I feel like you should know how to solve this, don’t you”? She says silkily, and pulls a chalk from the back pocket of her jeans. I try to look like I’m not annoyed with her tone, which I am. I take look at the blackboard and stare at the equation.

Ax2 + Bx + C.

Is this supposed to be a joke? I studied this last year. I had to contain my loud laugh but I realized that would probably not be for my benefit. I stand up and pass Miss Somerset with the chalk in my hand. If I knew her better, I'd say she looked a little smug. Hmm. I think she’s forgotten how many times I managed to shut her up last winter. I wished it would’ve had more permanent affect. My classmates obviously think this is sort of a game, looks of extreme excitement plastered on their faces. Christ. I stop in front of the black board and calmly start writing, not a trace of hesitation in my movements.

A2+ 2ab + b2 = (a + b)2.

I leave the chalk on the teachers table and return to my seat, silently hoping to be left to myself for the rest of the class. Miss Somerset blinks at me as if she doesn't comprehend this. She scrunches her face upwards in a way that makes her look like Kermit the frog, and I almost laugh. She’s carrying a leather messenger bag. Why does she need that? Perhaps she’s staying in a hotel while Dr Olsen remains in her maternity leave. She’s wearing a black blazer, certainly not looking like a UN respected substitute teacher in the burbs of Brooklyn, not in these clothes. She looks like a girl who fell from the wrong side of the tracks, hoping to someday belong in a building with clean hallways. I sight inwardly. She’s so calm and controlled. I frown when her strained voice echoes on the walls once more, all the noise melting together in a familiar blur as I fall deeply into my imaginary world I’d been rudely ripped away from, moments ago.

 

35 Minutes Later - Literary lecture

 

Tom elbows his way through the crowded room over to my seat, right in the 2nd row and sits down. Dark Ray Ban shades hide most of his face, fooling everybody except me. My heart squints together in a pain reflex when I see him flinch under the light touch from the people passing him. Maybe I’m just too use to see him missing out on school and being dragged into the boy’s locker room every other day. I cringe at the thought what they do to him down there.

“So…” Thomas Parker turned completely around in his seat and shot me his sweetest smile. I could see through the light make up, all bruises and bumps annoying me more than usual.

“I heard you were practically moaning somebodies name in math class” The teasing tone couldn’t have been mistaken in his soft voice. Oh boy.

“Common Tia, spill the beans”.

I blush under his overbearing gaze and shift uncomfortably in my seat, obviously not going to answer his forward question. How had he heard? I got a gentle nudge on the shoulder in impatience but only slapped Tom’s hand away, directing my attention towards the stage below us where Mr Barrymore was flapping his hands in the air trying to get attention. Slow and steady, all the students found their seats and lowered their voices.

”Don’t you even consider this conversation over” He whispers, so closely to my ear that small tingles ran down my ear all the way to the bottom of my spine. I tug my lips upward in a smile because this was the small boy who had turned into my best friend four years ago. The boy who was so tough but so fragile at the same time. The boy who loved another boy and it almost killed him. People tend to suffocate everything that’s unordinary and different. Tom is suffocated every day.

“Silence”! Dustin Barrymore, the literary professor for about 20 years stood on the middle of the stage and shouted from the best of his ability. I swear I could see through his white shirt, visually damp in random places. Eww.

I reached down in my back pack and grabbed a small note book. My mom had lent it to me two years ago but like most else, forgotten she ever had it. I on the other hand was extremely keen to it as it had saved me in many times of trouble. It brought a soft feeling to my heart to feel Tom’s hand pressed against mine. I felt unspeakably safe. I know it might sound odd, but when it comes to protecting other people, Tom had never let me down. Although I wished he took better care of himself.

“Listen-“Mr Barrymore ran his hand over the few strands of sweaty grey hair on his almost bald head.

“I assume all of you students know the name Knowles & Kori incorporate”.

Mr Barrymore spoke again, earning my attention. Few nods, completely unnecessary because every New Yorker who had ever read a book knew what Knowles & Kori incorporate was. One of the biggest publishing companies in the U.S.

“Well we got a special request from Nathan Sykes to sit through this lecture, I expect all of you to give him a warm welcome-”.

Before he could finish his sentence the large door on the right side of the stage was ripped open. What? I as did the rest of the class lent slightly forward, trying to look through the door. Mr Barrymore must be trying to make a joke. He’s always got a very strange sense of humour. A tall figure leaps through the door and gently closes it behind, turning around to face the class with a wide smile. I don’t notice I was holding my breath until I heard the rest of the class exhale nervously. No Way.

“I’m sorry to disturb you professor, please do continue” he politely apologises and sits down on the teachers table, trying to make as low profile as possible. I am not going to lie I didn’t listen to one word that came out of Dustin’s despicable mouth. Not because I wasn’t at all familiar with the subject, in fact I had higher average score in this class than anyone had ever had before in this school before and my interest unlimited. But only Tom and I knew that. It’s amazing how advantaging it can be to have friends access to the teachers computer password.

The reason is primarily because the richest book publisher in the country is sitting few feet’s away from me. Maybe I should as for an autograph… No I can’t, he’ll think I’m a sort of a freak. Calm down, there are only like ten minutes left, you’ll survive.

As if he was reading my thoughts, I catch him staring directly at me. I can the air drain from my lungs in record time and a large shade of red covering my face. Holy crap. I try to swallow, but it's hard with a dry mouth. Can he tell? He grins a disarming wolfish grin that doesn't reach his eyes. Shit- he’s so hot. This much amount of beauty can’t be healthy. He shoots me a flirty wink before directing his attention towards Mr Barrymore’s final words. What just happened? I could to slap myself right here. Obviously I don’t, what kind of a psychopath would I look like if I did?

“Miss Angel”? Mr Barrymore collected his notebooks from the stand in front of him.

“Yes”? My voice I dry and it doesn’t help that everyone’s eyes are on me, especially Mr Syles. I need to get out of here. My mini-me does not approve, as she snarling at me for being too socially awkward. That would explain a lot…

“Will you stay here for a minute, the rest of you are excused” He waves his hand lazily before turning around and falling into a deep conversation with Nathan Sykes. Well this will be interesting. Both Tom and I share a glance before standing up and making our way towards the exit, as do the rest of the students. We walk down the steps and Tom shoots me a confused look which says you-better-tell-me-everything-what-happened-later. That will not be a problem. There is no way I will be able to contain my excitement for meeting Mr Sykes personally.

I turn on my heel and walk towards the two gentlemen left in the spacious room, chatting away. I’ve always considered Mr Barrymore as a very cocky-self centred person, I cannot stand that kind of people, which is why I always have to plaster on an extremely fake smile and attitude when I’m around him. Today no exception.

“Miss Angel, here you are finally” he sing-songs in an unfamiliar jolly way and reaches out for my hand. I hesitantly accept it and take the place beside him, nervously brushing a few strands of hair behind me ear- clearing my vision.

“May introduce you to one of the most successful young man in New York, Nathan Sykes”.

“You flatter me Mr Barrymore”.

“Nonsense, be polite Miss Angel, introduce yourself “.

I have no time to think about Dustin’s embarrassing statement. Do I dare?

“Hello Mr Sykes, I’m Lolita Angel” I blurt out in a nervous rumble, enthusiastically handing out my hand in his direction. His half side smile is appealing, as goes for him as a whole. I can see his muscles through his thin dark t shirt when his warm hand greets mine. What is he, 24? 25? He’s very boyish for a male his age. His chocolate hair is cleanly swept up in a tight quiff, not even one hair parting from the others, how does he do that? I’m very curious of this simple fact, maybe he uses like super expensive shower gel only meant to be used by billionaires. Focus Tia, this is not the time to let your mind wander! My mini-me stamps her foot down in frustration.

“My very favourite…”

My confused face must be amusing as they both start laughing. Laughing at me. I want to frown but restraint, probably not a good idea if I want to be taken seriously. I resume my former body expression, straightening my back and tilting my chin slightly upwards to look intimidating. I highly doubt I’m successful.

“Excuse me”?

“Lolita, by Vladimir Nabokov, written in English and published in 1955 in Paris and 1958 in New York. Middle-aged literature professor and hebephile Humbert, obsessed with the 12-year-old Dolores Haze, with whom he becomes sexually involved after he becomes her stepfather. Lolita is his private nickname for Dolores. Brilliant book. My very favourite…”

He’s making fun of me. Dustin looks like he’s in love but I have to give it all I’ve got not to scoff in his face. It seems like he sense’s my restraint and his heart shaped lips tug upwards in a wide smirk. He seems to be enjoying himself, but on my cost, making it look like I’m stupid. I don’t ever like looking stupid.

“But you already knew that didn’t you”? He whispers teasingly so only I can hear, Mr Barrymore to distracted by a phone call. We stand there facing each other, both of our expressions cold and polite. Is this the right time to ask him for his autograph?

“So what do you do for a living Lolita” He breaks the awkward tension of Mr Barrymore’s absence, not seeming go noticed by him at all. I tug my hands forward, stretching on the black sleeves, hiding my wrists.

“I work in a library” I say truthfully, glancing up to meet his eyes. They’re yellow. But not in an alien way more like flooding gold, seeming to go darker with every second our eyes stay locked.

Oddly familiar.

“I see” his voice is soft and so raw at the same time it leaves me confused. His expression is completely blank, mysteriously impossible to read his mood.

“Do you like it”? He warmly asks, maybe slightly interested but beyond all, polite. His voice, the tone, makes me feel like we had known each other for years. Of course, I need to remind myself that we actually have not, and continue the silent politeness as is expected of me.

“I do, thank you Mr Sykes”.

He simply nods, gazing towards Mr Barrymore who’s making his way towards us. If I’m not mistaken I can see a vaguely disappointed trace in Mr Sykes expressions but he suffocates it with a stern smile.

“Everything alright Dustin”? He asks sweetly as Mr Barrymore takes his place beside me once again. First name reference? I’m impressed.

“Thank you Nathan, have you told Miss Angel about your offer”?

“I hadn’t got around to it” he says in a strange apologizing way directing his golden eyes in mine. I need to fight the delicious urge to prevent myself from getting lost in them. I think he knows. He runs his index finger over his lips in a way to suppress a smile- fuck he’s attractive. I feel something very dark and tempting built deep inside of me, in an unexplainable way. Focus!

“Miss Angel if it’s alright I would like to be bluntly honest” He pauses and obviously ignoring Mr Barrymore, fixing me with his yellow stare.

“You have the highest score in literary, math and English ever to be valued in this school. I hope you don’t mind but I got a few experts to value out your IQ based on your recent tests and they came out with a clean 140. I have a natural gut instinct which gives me the ability to spot out good people I would want working for me, and when Dustin told me about you I couldn’t let the opportunity slip out of my hands. The point that I’m trying to make is that I would like to offer you an internship with my company for undecided large period of time and see how it works out”.

I’m speechless. Nathan Sykes, successful multi-millionaire came to my school, just to offer me a job? My mini-me has momentarily passed out from all this craziness. When he sees my bewilded expression a sweet smile creeps on his face.

“Because you are turning 18 you have a legal acceptance to move away from your parents, although Ohio is an about nine hours to drive to New York it should be alright for you to move after your graduation” he says and continues to stroke his lips. Could you not! Although I’m completely overwhelmed by all this, almost unable to listen to his chanting voice there was something in the way he put those words together in the sentence. I could feel my heartbeat pounding.

“Did you say Ohio”? My mouth was dry. I could impossibly continue our heated staring contest. Why was I acting like this? I’ve never felt so betrayed by my own body before.

“Is there a problem”? He asks, his eyes blazing. Do I dare to defy him? My mind wanders to Drake, my sweet younger brother, living alone with my parents. Trusting, relying on me to save him every time one of them broke their promise or got annoyed with us. The thought sickens me.

“I’m very flattered Mr Sykes-“

“Please call me Nathan” He interrupts, raising an eyebrow at me, sensing my rejection.

“Nathan-“I pause, testing the word on my tongue. I must get this over with sooner than later.

“I am very flattered with you coming all this way to offer me what you have got to give. I hope I won’t offend you but I must decline”.

I can see from the edge of my vision that Mr Barrymore’s mouth has dropped wide open. My mini-me would be furious if she’d be conscious. Mr Sykes jaw locks back but his face expression remains blank. Is he mad at me? I can tell he’s used to get his own way, maybe to extremes I’m not sure. I keep my cold and polite appearance, silently hoping to be excused any moment now.

“May I ask why”? He tests, his eyebrows slightly furrowed but not enough to transform the polite feature he has been maintaining. Nobody should be this beautiful.

“Personal reasons” I state simply. He couldn’t hide his laugh any longer.

“You’re right Dustin, she’s something”.

Why do I feel so uneasy around this man? What is it about him? I can see Mr Barrymore is still speechless but still manages to exhale a nervous laugh in agreement to Mr Sykes last statement. He’s been talking about me?

“Have it your way Miss Angle” His lips curve upwards in a sardonic smile. My face flushes, I can’t bear to be in the same room with them any longer. He reaches down in the front pocket of his dark jeans, pulling out a cleanly organized business card and handing me it.

“If you ever change your mind” His smile does not touch his eyes when I accept the card. There’s my opportunity!

“Well thank you for your generous offer” I nervously hand out my hand, opening my exit. He cocks his head to the other side and takes my hand, squeezing it without Mr Barrymore noticing. I can’t contain my gasp which seems to amuse him. I can almost hear all the blood gathering in my face.

“Pleasure meeting you Mr Sykes” I try to look normal, my mind still screaming at me to escape.

“Believe me Miss Angel the pleasure was all mine” he silkily speaks, releasing my hand. The way he formed those words like there is so much more meaning to it than he gives away, leaving me very confused. Focus Lolita, for crying out loud! My mini-me has awoken once again, how pleasant.

I turn my attention to Mr Barrymore, still not quite recovered from my unexpected decision, nods my way as a goodbye. I’m glad we can keep it simple.

“Mr Sykes” I say as a final farewell, his cold eyes locking with mine.

“Miss Angel” He nods his head, with that approving of our separation. I turn around on my heel, and gracefully exit the massacre behind me, satisfied that a pair of yellow eyes were now hidden in my past.


	2. Chapter 2

A loud scream followed by numerous of curses catches my attention just as I sprint down the front steps of the school. Curiosity killed the cat they say. Correction, curiosity always gets me into a lot of trouble. Following the muffled sound, I find myself peeking through the boy’s locker room window, a place where I’d never imagined myself standing. I dry the wet smudges with my sleeve and stand on a large box, placed there by former admirers. It takes me only a minute to identify the three people inside. Oh no.

“What have you got to say for yourself”! Aaron hovers over Tom with a large stick in his hands. I don’t see my best friend but I know he was present. Both of my bony hands grasp the edge of the window, supporting myself, my balance very limited. Two other muscular backs face me, their fists loosely hanging down their sides.

“Huh”! Aaron screams and all blood rushes towards his steaming face. He was never the patient type. Tom had told me numerous of times how he was the one charged over the other two. Chester and Ron step closer to the curled up creature, lying like trash on the floor.

“I’m sorry, for a minute there I thought you were complaining about your sore vagina” Tom’s raspy laugh rumbles, getting an unhappy response from his attackers. Oh Tom, I think to myself. Why do you always have get yourself into trouble?

“What did you say” Ron whispers through clenched teeth, pressing his heel deeply onto Tom’s back. A loud painful scream forced its way between his closed lips as I there stand, pathetically glued to the spot. The tension is quickly rising, the boys forming a half circle around his numb body. Slowly and unexpectedly, Tom starts to crawl away from them, leaving smudgy blood stains on the marble tiled floor.

“Hold on, I'll go find you a tampon”.

My mouth drops wide open as does theirs. Oh my god. Tom if you get alive out of this bizarre situation I will make sure to kill you myself. I can’t let this happen. Before I have quite managed to wrap my head around all this I find myself with a large stone in my hand, begging to fly. I don’t think, I just do. Just before I can jump in the next nearby bush I hear loud screams, forced out by anger. Not a second later, three furious boys gather around the shattered window, sharing a look of complete horror.

“Did someone see us”? Ron asks, his voice smaller than it was before.

“What if someone took a picture” Chester almost cries, burying his hands in his back hair.

“We would be kicked out of the football team”!

I’d never believed Tom when he told me they were ‘stupid as shit’.

I owed him an apology.

“Shut up” Aaron rumbles and looks around, desperately trying to spot a running intruder. I don’t let my mind wander what he would do if he knew I was just few steps away from him. I’m scared enough already. My breathing is shallow and I have to resist the urge to brush the branches away, poking at some uncomfortable places.

“Listen to me” Aaron gets himself together and faces the other two idiots, close to tears.

“Chester you go behind the school, Ron, you and me will go inside the school and check the classrooms. We have to find that bitch, whoever it is” He firmly speaks and drags Ron with him while Chester runs out of sight, behind the school as ordered. It’s now or never.

I swiftly jump out of my hiding place running as fast as I can through the door and sit on my knees by Tom’s side in no time. His back faces me, no movement. Poor baby. My breathing suddenly becomes heavier and my eyes fill with genuine tears.

“What have they done to you”? I whisper, lifting up is bloody shirt, revealing numerous of red marks I know will bruise later. My eyes travel up to the back of his head, his messy brown hair in contact with the white tiled floor.

“Tom”? I gently touch his arm but no respond. Vaguely I can hear angry voices from outside the broken window, no doubt in my mind they were headed here.

“Tom, we need to get out of here”.

It wasn’t my fault that my voice broke at the last word. My mental health is way too unstable to be dealing with all of this. But who else will? As the voices come closer I become angrier and angrier more than less at the still body in front of me. I can’t let him get me into all this trouble. There are many unforgivable things I know the boys wouldn’t pass out on if they find me here. Countless.

“Tom get the fuck up” I partly scream and cry at the same time, jerking his hand upwards. It seems like he’s awoken, his eyes shooting up in a pain reflex. I can’t delay this process and go the easy way, I need to get him out of here, now.

“Tia please” he cries, when I give it all I have to get him on his feet. Tom’s face is scrunched up, almost breaking my heart. I really want to give in, give into his whimpers and cries. But I can’t. I won’t.

“Tom you’re going to feel much more pain if you stay here” I spat angrily, his body almost falling over mine but I manage to support him enough to stay on his feet. Slowly I start to walk him out of the changing room, counting his steps and encouraging him to move quicker. As I zone out my surroundings and focus on leading him towards my car, I can feel his body getting weaker by every step. He’s so vulnerable and helpless, almost like a little child. My mini-me snarls at me to get it together. Can’t she just ever leave me alone?

“Common baby just few steps- that’s it” My voice is starting to tremble under this pressure. I can’t help myself from being constantly looking behind my back, reassuring myself that the boys aren’t biting our heels. I can’t see them but their voice is hovering.

There are no words in the world who can describe how relieved I am when my Volkswagen beetle opens, letting Tom to clumsily slide inside the passenger seat. Ignoring his painful look, I close the door and jump in the driver seat beside him. I need to worry about those blood stains later. My dad’s going to be pissed!

After few dreadful moments I’m driving on the street, talking to myself in a hopeless way to calm down. I don’t think I’ve ever been this stressed out before. My frightened mood changes quickly into pure anger, turning around to face the lifeless boy sitting beside me. It annoys me how still he is, just silently looking outside the window at all the lights passing by. He’s got another thing coming.

“What the fuck were you thinking Tom” I break the ice and occasionally glance his way to catch his reaction. To my surprise a lazy smile crept on his tired features and he shakes his head amusingly.

“I love you, you know that”? He says, taking me off guard. My knuckles whiten around the steering wheel.

“Stop”.

“You’re amazing”.

My warning seems to go unnoticed by him.

“You’re pathetic”.

His soft chuckle is disarming. I know he’s trying to calm me down in the only ways he know.

“Drive me home” he softly speaks, and gently places his hand on my knee in a comforting way. He’s trying to avoid this. I scoff loudly and shake his hand off, directing my attention towards the road. We ride in silence and I pull over at his house after few minutes.

“I think I owe you my lifelong gratefulness“ Tom says and with much trouble, leans over and quickly kisses my cheek. Before I know it my eyes are providing tears for the both of us.

“There there-“ His thumb brushes over my cheek, in a failed attempt to brush the tears away. Make it all better. The fact that he doesn’t even have the strength to lift his hand long enough to do that sends me over the edge as a constant stream of salt water leaks down my cheeks

“You have to forgive me Tia” His brown eyes are fixed in mine, sending me chills through every nerve in my body. This won’t stop. What if I hadn’t been asked to stay a little longer? What if Mr Sykes hadn’t offered me the job? What if I hadn’t been walking down those steps at the exact moment? If think for one second that I saved him, that Tom is safe, I’m so very wrong.

“What did Mr Barrymore want” he asks, brushing his fingers against my palm. I sniff quietly and sit back in my seat.

“Knowles&KoriIncorporate offered me a job”.

He raises his eyebrow and an amused smirk crept over his face.

“Is a congratulation in order”?

“I declined”

“Drew”?

“Yes”.

At this point my voice is dry. So very dry that every sound coming from my throat sounds like a squeak. He nods, and I know he understands. I can’t let my father claim my little brother. With time I know he will. I can only imagine how it would be if Drew was alone with him.

“Well, I think we need to call it in for tonight” He playfully sends me wink before stumbling out of the car, leaving behind a pool of blood on the seat and floor.

 

10 Minutes later – At home

 

„Where the fuck were you“? My dad’s screams loudly, not a second before I quietly closed the door behind me. Shit. Why did I let myself think that he wouldn‘t notice my absence? I‘d even taken extra time to buy Drew ice cream he could have after dinner. I‘m so stupid!

„I was only two hours longer than usually“ I mumble, awkwardly taking off my coat and hanging it in the closet, wincing under his intense gaze. What did I do? His grey hair is brushed backwards and his cold blue eyes are blazing. There has been a while since I’ve made him this angry. I don‘t dare to walk past him so I go to the kitchen to have a glass of water. Why am I such a coward? Has he really managed to brain wash me into being his property? I can feel a loud scoff behind me but I try to ignore it and fill a small cup with the clear liquid, constantly running from the water tab.

„Where“? He hisses through his clenched teeth. The alcohol can be sensed from where im standing, cautiously few feet away from him. What am I supposed to say? Mr Barrymore introduced me to the richest man in New York and I declined his job offer. Oh yeah I also saved my best friend from dying in the most unhuman way possible.

I swallow my water, trying my best to look beyond brave while feeling as small as possible. I know there‘s no way for me to avoid or prevent this conversation. Or his actions. The bruises have just recently disappeared.

„I bought you ice cream“ I smile innocently and place the plastic bag on the kitchen counter, reaching for the caramel one. His favourite.

„Here daddy“ I sugar-coat my words in the most sickening way, leaving me filled with self-hatred. I have to remind myself every five minutes that if I don‘t want to lose everything, need this. I need to be on his good side. I smile sweetly through his angry features and try to look surprised when he swings his hand around, knocking the caramel ice cream tub out of my hands.

„Answer me“ He hisses, taking few steps closer. I have to give it everything I have not to back down. I can‘t give him the satisfaction by escaping him.

„Dad please“ I plead, trying to reach under his drunken state in desperate hope to wake up the person who used to be there. He doesn‘t stop. In a certain way it reliefs me when my cheek reunites with the cold kitchen tiles. He can‘t break me in any other ways than he already has. Killing time, I can‘t help but wonder. If he doesn‘t love me, if the coldness in his eyes is constant in his heart. What boundaries are there for him not to kill me?

That‘s when the first raindrops started to fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like it?


	3. Chapter 3

The Next Day…

 

C.G. Jung once wrote:

“The healthy man does not torture others - generally it is the tortured who turn into torturers.

I tend to agree with the second piece.

Apart from the paintings, the rest of the office is cold, clean, and clinical. I wonder if it reflects the personality of the Adonis who sinks gracefully into one of the brown leather chairs opposite me. I shake my head, disturbed at the direction of my thoughts, and retrieve my expression from before. I’m pretty sure he’s German.

“Miss Angel do you know why you’re here”?

I can’t help but glare his way.

“I do not, sir” I sugar-coat my tone, tilting my head to reunite with his blazing grey eyes. What’s his problem? Haven’t I been obedient enough to meet up with his expectations? Only the thought brings heat to me cheeks. Surely he’s smart enough to catch up on my mock-up admiration.

“Miss Angel, first of all I would like to congratulate you on the job offer”.

David Cole, current headmaster of an unknown high school in Brooklyn says, with not a trace of humour in his dominant tone. I think he’s trying to make me feel ashamed or guilty for my ‘bad live choices’. I only push my circled sunglasses further up my nose in response and nod his way.

The things I would like to say to this man…

“Also…-“He pauses and fixes me with his grey gaze.

“I wanted to inform you that you have been upgraded from B-Level. For the rest of the semester you will be taking lessons with the A-Level class”.

Few forced wrinkles under his eyes form in a welcoming way. I gape at him, mouth open, and I feel my guards towards him lower much as my curiosity wins me over. Is this a joke? It must be. I’ve never had enough money to be in their classes and now, all of a sudden something or should I say someone pays for my tuition. There is no way the school has upgraded me. A-level classes are students who have paid teachers, surely this is some kind of a joke.

“This must be a misunderstanding-“I try to convince him, but he only shakes his head firmly, clearly enjoying being the upper handed one.

“I assure you, it’s not”.

His eyes soften as he starts taking pity in my confused expression. I’ve noticed before how sadistic they looked.

“Well there has to be”.

If I’m not mistaken I can sense a trace of hurt in his grey eyes.

“Don’t you question me Miss Angel-“He suddenly snarls, taking me off guard.

“Besides, Mr Sykes even called me personally, so I guarantee that there is no misunderstanding”.

My mini-me falls into a massive girl fit, screaming and squealing giving me every reason to doubt her judgement. Maybe she’s just lost her mind. These have been a hard couple of days for her.

“Nathan Sykes is going to be paying for my tuition”? I whisper, my voice so impossibly dry. David gives me no comfort, his thin lips twisting in a strange way when he silently nods and passively rolls his eyes.

“Requested to do so”.

There are only so many names for all the emotions in the world, going through my head, testing my mental health past its breaking point. From the edge of my vision I can see Mr Cole shift awkwardly in his seat and running his vision uncomfortably between random items. I feel like I should say something. But I don’t think I possibly can. The richest Batchelor in the state of New-York requested to pay a tuition for a person he doesn’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t read too much into this. I mean what could this amount of money actually mean to him? Nothing. Maybe he just thought he was doing a kind thing. But to me, this changes everything.

“You’re excused Miss Angel” David Cole says, returning to the very large stack of paperwork piled on his desk.

I don’t know how, or why, but I find myself standing in the girl’s bathroom, few minutes later. The broken lines across the mirror, disfigure my body leaving me to wonder. My face might be concealed but the makeup doesn’t cover my heart, red and bruised. Why don’t they see it? Why do they choose to ignore it? If I scream, will someone come running? No one saved me from this. I can’t even cry onto my father, he isn’t there for me. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve to be the person who is randomly chosen from a mile in a crowd.

I place my purse on the sink and let my fingers wander. Moments later the cleanly organized business card is in my hand and my phone in my other. Am I doing this? Is my pride going to be the death of me?

“Nathan Sykes” a strong voice speaks, not a second later than I push the green button.

Too late now.

“Um-“ I stutter, falling into my -oh so very much awkward mode when I speak to someone on a phone. It’s one of my many qualities.

“Yes”? Hints of annoyance shine through his husky tone, obviously trying to maintain the polite, cold appearance he seems to be familiar with. I’m almost certain I can hear girls giggling somewhere in the background. This is going to be a disaster.

“Yes-Hi Mr Sykes, Umm this is Lolita, Lolita Angel we actually met yesterday”.

I admittedly curse myself for my rumble, filling my hand with chocolate locks in a desperate way to calm me down. Why did I do this? Waves of guilt and disgrace wash over me as I slide down the wall, hitting the floor gently.

“Oh right, Miss Angel I remember you” His light chuckle disarms me, sending tingles down to meet up with my darkest fantasies. I shift my feet uncomfortably, hoping to erase them with a single position. It seems to be irresolvable.

“Have you reconsidered my job offer”?

And then it hits me. Of course this wasn’t one of those kind things you occasionally do once a day! How could I be so naïve, to think he actually saw something special in me and decided to help me? This was his way into bribing me into being his- I mean, becoming is employee.

I’m so stupid.

After few moments I realize I’ve been letting him hang for quite a while, punishing myself for this kind of average stupidity. Did he hear me whisper to myself? Oh god.

“I have not” I bluntly put out, tainting my words with fake confidence in the most extreme way that I ever think I have before. I can sense his surprisement only through the breath he inhales.

“Well then, what do I owe this pleasant surprise”?

Hmm. I can hear this unknown daring tone taking me off guard.

Choose your words carefully Angel.

“Does a girl need a reason”?

Not a second later a saintly laugh echoes in my ears. I resist the urge to pat myself on the back for this excellent performance.

“I guess not” his voice is so beautiful. I could just bottle it and keep it forever in my secret closet. No that sounds very creepy. Maybe it should be glued with glitter and painted on with rainbow colours. Focus!

“I’m guessing though, that you are not being completely honest with me” he says and leaves a silent gap for me to respond. When I don’t, he takes the obvious opportunity.

“So I ask again Miss Angel, what can do for you this lovely afternoon”.

“I don’t want you to pay for my tuition” I blurt out, surprising both myself and the intimidating male on the other line. A long silence is all the reaction I seem to receive, leaving me more anxious by each second that passes. What is it about him that makes me feel so intoxicated and helpless?

“You seem to be confident about declining everything I offer you”.

His dark voice is not mistaken, in a weird way pleasing me that I can have in the slightest way similar effect on him as he does on me. Even though he doesn’t give anything away.

“Yes I do” I state clearly.

“Why”?

His voice mirrors his lack of understanding completely, giving in on his constant cold surface.

“I-“I pause unsure of what is expected of me. Does he really want me to reply to that? For first I don’t really know why I give him such a hard time. His words are clouding my judgement. It’s nerve racking. It seems like he senses my unsureness and kindly steps in, saving us both from the upcoming silence.

“Please at least accept going to dinner with me tonight, it’s all I ask”.

All though I’m surprised, I’m fully aware that I am being put on the spot. How can I say no to him, for the third time in the last 24 hours? Have I got the will to fight against him any longer? Surely he could take any other girl in New York with him, but he chooses to ask me? I’m so confused.

“Alright” I mumble, trying to contain the loud screams from the obnoxious smaller version of myself.

“Good, I’ll send a car to pick you up at 7:00” his demanding tone was shining through the sweet choice of words, leaving me swoon at his gentleman features. This I never could’ve imagined.

“Wait won’t you need my address”? I ask.

“Let’s just say I’ll find a way Miss Angel, I always do” his words, are in every way resembling to a dangerous threat. It’s weird. I like weird.

 

5 Hours Later…

http://www.polyvore.com/darling_ch/set?id=96261787

 

I’m not going to lie, my heart skips two beats when the loud ring of the doorbell echoes in the empty apartment. How amazingly convenient that my father is away on a business trip and my brother at his best friend’s house. I turn in a one last circle in the bathroom mirror, and start to carefully make my way down the wooden stairs. I don’t think that I should be allowed to wear heels. I can just hear all the awkward situations soon to come when I’ll stumble on every dead thing. I think I might explode from all this overbearing nervousness. What If he doesn’t like me? This isn’t a date you idiot he’s just trying to be nice so he can use you later. What if I’m not properly dressed? So be it. What if I start to nervously make a fool out of myself? There shouldn’t be a ‘What if’ in that sentence. How absurd is this situation!

“I got the eye of the tiger” I mumble, just before swiftly opening the door - revealing a rather tall creature facing away from me. My breath hitches and I can almost feel a million girls all around the globe faint when he slowly turns around, captivating yellow eyes locking with mine.

Wow.

I can feel my cheeks blush under the layers of makeup when I realize I’ve been staring at him. This is going to be something.

“Are you ready”? His soft voice reminds me of honey and velvet, in the most delicious way possible. I wonder how raw his voice must sound in the morning.

All I can feel myself capable of doing is giving a small nod before turning around and securely locking the apartment. When I turn to face him, he’s standing closer than I expected. So close I can smell him, and I become impossibly aware that this guy is unaware of the concept ‘personal space’. Not that I’m complaining, the slightest. Being so close to this completely unfamiliar person, makes me feel heavenly. It’s so wrong. His angelic laughter rebounds on the walls, waking me up from the short daze I had trapped myself in.

“Come” His eyes have grown darker, a pure sense of discipline suffocating the foreign hunger in his eyes as he gently takes my hand in his and leads me into the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you think, no need to sugarcoat things but it motivates me to write faster x


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